


The lost for words affair

by HollyMcCoy



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015) RPF, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cussing, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:36:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyMcCoy/pseuds/HollyMcCoy
Summary: After a mission goes wrong Napoleon tries to shift the blame.





	The lost for words affair

“What the hell was that?!”, asked Napoleon as soon as the door had closed again.  
He took the headset off, that he had used to listen to the conversations downstairs and turned towards his partner. The other man did not even pretend to misunderstand. He merely sighed and started to undo the buttons of his tux. Without looking at his partner he answered in an emotionless voice: “Nothing happened. I’m just not her type”.  
Napoleon starred at the blonde in earnest incomprehension: “What do you mean, you’re not her type? You look stunning in this tux! You could have had anyone in that room!”.  
Illya snorted and continued to loosen his bowtie: “Don’t be ridiculous Napoleon! I look just the way I always look”.  
“Well, then you clean up nicely! Would it have killed you, to flirt with her? You could be up in her room screwing her and getting the information, we need!”  
Still refusing to acknowledge his partner’s angry mood, Illya retorted mildly: “Mark went up with her. The mission is over for us”.  
Napoleon irritably snapped back: “And a good thing, too! You just stood there, stiff as a rod!”  
“What would you have me do then?”, asked Illya.  
He seemed to be genuinely curious and that irritated Napoleon even more. The man had no idea how attractive he was! At least half of the women he himself bedded, would go with his naive partner, if he would deign to give them the time of the day. How could someone look like that and be completely ignorant of the effect he had on his environment? There was only this much a fellow man could stand. Napoleon thought he should be excused for loosing his patience with his self- sufficient partner: “Oh, for heaven’s sake! You could have smiled a bit, couldn’t you? Or put on those dorky glasses of yours!”  
When Napoleon turned around to look at the other man again, he realized, that Illya had done just that. He had bean checking the receiver for the tracking device Mark carried. Now he was smiling bemusedly at Napoleon through his glasses, and Napoleons mouth went dry.  
Without a conscious decision on his part, words tumbled out of his mouth: “Yeah… like that”.  
Illya tilted his head to the side in question. The soft smile drained from his face and his gaze snapped back into sharp focus. Napoleons heart hammered in his chest, when he realized what he had just let slip. He turned away quickly and fumbled for something to say. Anything to distract his partner and stop him from working out the true meaning behind the words. Desperate for a diversion, he blindly accused: “You really live up to your nick name: Ice- prince, indeed!”.  
When Illya kept silent, Napoleon turned back to his partner, trying his hardest to mask his panic with an angry expression. The other man’s face showed to trace of his former smile. But if he was hurt by the petty name-calling, he did not let it show. His hard eyes remained fixed on Napoleons face, trying to understand. The focused gaze renewed Napoleon’s panic. Illya was a scientist and dangerously intelligent. It was easily forgotten amongst his other outstanding skills as an agent, but being the focus of Illya’s attention brought the fact to the forefront of Napoleon’s mind. Only wanting to diffuse his partner’s concentration, he forced his voice flat and inserting as much steel as he could muster: “You realize, this will affect your performance report, Agent Kuryakin?!”.  
And still the other man refused to react with more than a small frown. Knowing it was a low blow and it would probably earn him a broken jaw, Napoleon continued in grave desperation: “I never knew you were a coward, you know. Too afraid of rejection to even try!”.  
That finally did it. Just as he had expected, Naploelon’s head made contact with the wall before he knew it. He was viciously clamping down on his instinctive reaction to fight back. He was not suicidal. The blonde was gripping his lapels and shoving him against the wall in anger. Then he took a deep breath and Napoleon could see the effort it was taking him to calm himself somewhat. His face inches from Napoleon’s own, Illya bit out: “What did you just call me?”.  
Despite the pain that he could see in his very near future, Napoleons heart slowed down. He had managed it. It had been a close shave, and he would have to pay for it with days of Illya’s sulking and possibly a ruptured spleen and a few loose teeth. But he had avoided having to explain his slip up. Having to explain the unprofessional feelings, he had developed for his partner. He breathed freely for the first time in the last few minutes, despite his partner’s body pressing him to the wall. Resigning himself to the consequences of his diversion, Napoleon silently apologized to his partner and made himself spit: “I said you were to scared of rejection to take action!”.  
For the longest moment Illya just stared at Napoleon, his eyes showing a barely held in cheek fury. Napoleon tried to brace himself for the blow, that was sure to come. He knew which buttons to press, to make his partner lose control and he had done just that. But anything was better than the humiliation of having to see the pity on his partners face, if he ever found out the truth. Better to keep his unwanted emotions to himself. He could take a little pain - even in his fury, Illya would not hurt him too badly. He forced himself to meet Illa’s gaze and was immediately lost in the whirl of emotion he saw there. His mind went blank and he could not have moved if his live had depended on it. After hiding for so long he was unable to come to grasps with the conflicting feelings his private partner was allowing him to see. Hope flared up, when he didn’t find just the white-hot anger he had expected. But in his heart, he knew, the other man could not feel the same. On the other hand, his body knew, that his partner had never let him down before. Napoleon was paralyzed.  
His eyes went wide when he felt Illya’s lips on his own. They were everything he had ever dreamed and more. He immediately lost himself in their warmth and softness and kissed his partner back with all the emotion he had been hiding. His mind was whirling, and he was unable to do anything but feel. The wall and his partners strong grip on his lapels were all that were keeping him upright. He only realized he had closed his eyes when Illya pulled back after a time, that felt like eternity and no time at all.  
He looked at the shorter man in front of him in wonder. Ilya was wearing a weary expression, that was slowly making way for a hesitant smile.  
Napoleon licked his lips and asked in a rough voice: “Since when have you known?”.  
Illya’s eyes turned rueful: “Just now. When you didn’t deck me for kissing you”.  
All the tension left Napoleon in a near hysterical chuckle: “Fine spies we are!”.  
Illya snorted and allowed his head to fall forward against Napoleons shoulder, as he asked: “How long?”.  
The older man took a deep breath and releasing it, admitted: “Ages. Ages and ages.”.  
He dared to wrap his arms carefully around his partner and finally allowed himself to feel the strong muscles as he stroked up and down the broad back.  
“You?”, he softly asked in turn.  
“Almost from the beginning”, came the quit answer.  
He pulled Illya close to himself and turned his head to kiss the blond hair. It smelled like rain and he smiled in happy disbelief. They stayed like this for the longest time, enjoying their new-found closeness, before the blond took a deep breath and Napoleon could feel a returning tension in the body under his hands: “I do not share”.  
“I’m not asking you to”.  
The blond raised his head defiantly and the tone of his voice made Napoleons dick stand up and pay attention: “I’m serious. You are mine and I will not share”.  
Napoleon was thankful for the solid wall behind him for the second time this night. His partner’s words had gone straight to his libido and all he managed was a breathless: “Yours?”.  
The look on the other man’s face had turned calculating, before he grinned wolfishly and agreed: “Mine”.  
He stood up straight and put his mouth next to Napoleon’s ear. Without turning his head, he clearly enunciated: “I will fuck you so hard, you will feel it for days. I will make you scream my name until you are hoarse. Ponimayesh? [Understood?]”.  
He moved back to look smugly at the taller man again. Napoleon’s mouth had gone dry again. Hearing his normally so polite and soft-spoken partner talking like this, was doing things to his inside. Twisty, icy-hot things. He wondered for a moment what the embarrassing sound he was hearing was, before realizing it was his own moaning. He closed his mouth with a snap and tried to focus on the intense gaze of his partner. There had been a question, hadn’t there? He nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really trying to improve my writing, constructive criticism is most welcome!


End file.
